Indignation

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While my boss was fiercely screaming at me in Spanish, I was laughing in my head at the possibility of something so trivial affecting me after the life I've had, and then something happened, something quasi magical.

In those spanish Mexican screams I heard my mother, I was transported back to my childhood, I could feel my eyes going away and I started trembling, I remembered her raising her hand with uttermost pleasure to hit me really hard. I remembered the pain in my little body, the sweat and the trembling my body did when I knew I was going to be hit without mercy.

While my boss continued with her debate of unanswered emails I started trembling, I could see my mother going at it again and again until her arms were tired of hitting, I felt her arms being heavy and gross, wet of sweat, me with my hands over my head and going to my knees in pain because my strength was not enough for keeping me standing.

I wanted to help my mother so much, I wanted to stay standing up so she could hit me harder and take out all her pain on me, I wanted her to feel free and relieved after all this. I loved her so much, I loved my parents so much, I always put them first, I never thought about me.

My boss continued saying that she couldn't stand..

I always thought as a child I should have stand up by myself, tell her or him to stop, hidden, ran, protected myself instead of just putting myself out there for getting hit (¨putting myself ¨said they were forcing me to stay but I never even try to escape)

My boss finally finished, everyone had face of something awful being happened, I was supposed to feel bad and hurt so I pretended to be offended and left the scene.

While I walked by I started laughing at my luck, I was safe, in an office, with a home, with friends who loved me, the things are so different now, I was smiling.

Then I noticed, there is no way, there was no way to defend myself, she was so strong, she used to call me to go to the toilet downstairs and close the door, said: quiet, or it will be worse.

And then she was making it, making herself mad again, saying again and again why I didn't deserve her as mother, how good she was, what a piece of shit I was, how I could never be as good as my brothers, how she had to deal with me.

And her hands, so hard, like rocks, every hit, sometimes she ever brought instruments, different things, the worse one was a cloth hanger, I remember that motherfucker burning my poor naked skin, that time i even tried running, she chased me happily and cornered me in the room, then hit me harder because of not respecting her need to hit me.

I then suddenly realized: I couldn't have, there was nothing.. I couldn't do anything, I finally realized, all this years after, i could have not stand for myself, it was not my fault.

God it was not my fault, i just wanted to survive, I was so scared of them killing me, I was so scared.

This morning I woke up feeling different, I finally understood, nothing could have saved me, not even myself.

And the indignation I feel now for my boss being unfair I should have felt about my parents, I

should have felt that, all this guilt, all this years, and I never really had the right feeling.

A child should never be used for their parents to vent and discharge their frustration.

I even wonder if I was really helping them by letting them hit me and insult me, they looked peaceful afterwards indeed, but they were relying on hurting me more and more every time they got mad.

One day when I was 17 my dad raised his hand for the last time at me, we were in the car, I grabbed a car club and told him in silent whisper: -touch me once again and I'll murder you- I have never seen him so scared.

That day he decided to hit me cause I wanted to buy books and the remarks I did made him feel dumb in the bookstore in front of everyone. He couldn't stand portraying that image.

Last time she hit me I was 14, -I didn't answer the cell phone, I ignored her to hurt her, she felt humiliated, specially because a stupid little girl thought she could do that to her- she said, I was at a party and couldn't hear her calling me for the 4th time that evening (in 2 hours), she waited for me to arrive home and when i opened the door she punched me in the face so hard that I felt and my earring was snatched from my ear and started bleeding.

As I came downstairs she said: what did you put in your mouth to feign that blood you stupid?, there is no way I hit you that hard for you to bleed, I answered : you did, you are a fucking monster, that's why my father doesn't love you.

She never touched me again after that.

I am indignant, you should have never hurt a child, you shouldn't have had me if you didn't want me, you should have cleaned that fucking floor yourself, you should have seen a therapist and control your anger, you should have left your husband who made you so full of anger and regret, you stupid son of a bitch, you both, fuck you both, I was just a child.

And today I am doing the only thing I can do, communicating, taking this out to the world, for all the children out there who are suffering in silence, and the adults they became, for all of us who feel broken and indignant, YOU DIDN'T DESERVE THAT, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US DESERVE LOVE, and what you went through shouldn't make you ashamed, its not on you, its on them.

I forgive my childhood self, she did everything she could.

Thank you, and bye

Marlin